All the little things…

When I woke early on Tuesday morning after the second blood patch, my head was so full of melodies and song lyrics that I couldn’t sleep. Perhaps all the trauma to my brain had switched on my creative button? I quickly wrote everything down. It had been years since I had written songs, and for some reason now, my mind was flooded with ideas, and I felt so inspired to start writing songs again. I have been threatening to learn the guitar for some time now, but keep procrastinating. Perhaps this new start was a push for me to stop dilly dallying and perhaps all of this undistracted time was the perfect nudge to spend more time doing what I love most. Writing and music.

See, even the worst of situations offer up opportunities to learn and better ourselves.

Physically,  I was feeling very sore, but my head felt a lot better. Not completely normal though. (Was it ever normal, that is the question!) It felt heavy and a little groggy, and my eyesight was a little blurred. Compared to the day prior, though, it was a massive improvement.

By midday I was allowed to shower before an MRI (or IRM as it is called in France). I was put in a wheelchair to go to the ward where the MRI would take place. Sitting in the wheelchair put so much pressure on my tailbone which was incredibly painful and bruised from the blood patches, and I squirmed in the seat whilst waiting to be seen. A very handsome doctor wheeled me through and gave me a blue tunic to wear for the scan. I had barely put it on when he peeped through the curtain. He said I looked very attractive in it. He was of course joking, but I blushed anyway!

I have had an MRI before but for the purposes of those experiencing an MRI for the first time, I will describe what happened.

I had to lay on a moveable stretcher which gradually entered into the small tunnel which was the MRI scanner. They provided me with headphones playing NRJ radio which was a good distraction for the ten minutes I was in the scanner. As the tunnel is rather small, I would imagine it is quite nerve wracking to those of a nervous disposition or with claustrophobia. For me, I closed my eyes and actually dozed off several times, occasionally woken by the loud humming, buzzing and drilling sounds the MRI makes. I didn’t even realise I had left  the scanner until they removed the headphones from me and told me to wake up!

The handsome doctor helped me down and took me to get changed. He told me to wait in the wheelchair (which is apparently called a fauteuil – or a chariot he joked!) I was then wheeled back to maternity.

It was decided I should stay in another night to be on the safe side. Although a little bored and missing my boys, I was glad to stay another night to ensure I was fully mended. I used the opportunity to start writing about my experiences over the past few days, ready to update my blog. Writing for me is such a therapeutic tool. I feel such a release of tension as the words flow from me and onto the page or screen in front of me.

A psychiatric nurse actually came to visit me to ask if I had been able to talk to anyone. I said I had my music, and my notebook to write on, and that was helping me to manage my emotions in the absence of friends / family. Doing so, I think, helped me to fall asleep easily that night.

Wednesday morning, after I had showered and had breakfast, I put on Ed Sheeran’s song ‘Photograph’. It inspired me to look online at getting a little heart or locket to put a picture of Arran in, to keep around my neck, close to my heart. As I did, I received a message from a wonderful lady, who had read my story on a FaceBook forum I am a member of. It read:

“This may sound weird, but I wanted to let you know something that happened today; I hope it will bring a bit of light into your world. I was searching for photographs of the Himalaya for something to do with my job, and each picture that I download requires me to input a “captcha” (those pictures of street signs that tell computers that you’re not a robot). On the picture I decided to use, the captcha was two words: Terrace Arran. I thought of you straightaway, of course. As Arran is not a word I often come across, I looked into the picture and its origins a bit more; it seemed too much of a “coincidence”. I’ve attached it here. It’s a photo of Ama Dablam, a sacred peak in the Himalaya. Apparently the name means “Mother’s Necklace” or “Mother’s Jewel Box”; ama being the word for mother, and dablam being a sacred box worn as a necklace by Sherpa ladies. The mountain is thought to resemble a mother, reaching her arms down around her child for protection. I know that nothing can take away what you must be feeling, but I hope that this might comfort you: that his name came up in relation to such a sacred place. And I wasn’t going to say this bit, but then I saw you did Reiki, so hopefully you won’t find it too freaky: I was actually searching for a picture of the Himalaya to represent one of the celestial palaces where the ancient Chinese supreme spirit is thought to have resided. (I’m working on a textbook of Chinese medicine and there is a section about the history and origins of belief.) Both my husband and I thought it too…unusual…an occurrence, given the timing and the subject matter, so I felt I had to tell you. I hope you don’t mind. But maybe he is there now, safe in the cradle of the world.”

Coincidence? Or not? Just as I am looking at getting a locket to wear to keep my Arran close to my heart, a random message comes through from a spirited soul to tell me of a sacred peak who’s name means “Mother’s necklace”.

For me there have been far too many little things – or synchronicities – these past few days, to fob them off as just a coincidence. Even my husband who is as open minded as a dead frog, is struggling to palm these all off as such. The sudden sunshine as Arran was born, the near dead daffodils miraculously rejuvenating and the rainbow in the sky as I said goodbye to Arran. For me, this is yet another beautiful message, I feel, being sent to me from the beyond, to let me know that my Angel is safe and in good hands. And I am eternally grateful to Kira for sharing this with me.

As I always say, there is light to be found in every dark situation, if only we allow ourselves to see it. I have found amazing rays of these lights seeping through every crack in my dark situation, and I’m so grateful for the hope they have given me.

Ama Dablam - Arran

Ama Dablam – Arran

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s